


Prompt n. 3: One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc. pairing of your chosing.

by Minas_Desk



Series: Scattered Tales and prompts. [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, No Sense of Direction, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Skyhold, Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, kitchen, scattered tales and prompts, the inquisitor is a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 09:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12885357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minas_Desk/pseuds/Minas_Desk
Summary: I am Italian native speaker, so if you wish to help me to improve my writing, please feel free to suggest me any correction or submit your opinion: I'll appreciate both things.And of course prompt me too!





	Prompt n. 3: One character adjusting the other's jewelry/neck tie/ etc. pairing of your chosing.

**Author's Note:**

> I am Italian native speaker, so if you wish to help me to improve my writing, please feel free to suggest me any correction or submit your opinion: I'll appreciate both things.  
> And of course prompt me too!

“To be honest, Commander, Skyhold is such a huge place. I’d have got lost without your help.”  
Cullen nodded politely to the Inquisitor’s admission about his lack of sense of direction.

“My duty, Your Worship”, said Cullen, never missing his martial etiquette.

  
Lucas Trevelyan stopped dead his pacing. He cheerfully let his gaze wander all over the room in which they were standing, arms folded behind his back. With a well-mannered yet uncertain smile, he finally stated:

“We are now under Josephine’s office.“ And paused.

  
Then, hopefully landing his look on Cullen’s face, he added:

“Right?”  
“ Solas’s quarters.” replied Cullen with efficient brevity.

“Oh.”  The Inquisitor tried to seem at ease with his umpteenth mistake.

  
“I see”, he said in a quite tone, and kept on smiling at a rather puzzled commander who was now attempting to appear as stoic as he could, while he faced the appalling confusion of the Inquisition’s most important man.

  
“So, that’s my personal library and that is the cellar.” Said Trevelyan.  
“Yes” answered Cullen, holding a sigh of relief.

  
“And _there_ is the kitchen, according to my nose!” went on mischievously the Inquisitor, pointing at the door from which was coming a tempting smell of fresh cooked food.

  
The Commander followed with his eyes the Herold heading to the door he just indicated.  
\- He eventually could be able to find his way back, somehow- Cullen thought.

He heard Trevelyan’s voice that congratulated the cook for the excellent dinner they had enjoyed the night before, how he had _adored_ every single dish. He heard him inquire about the supplies or any problem that could result from having to deal with a such large number of people.

  
Cullen thought that if he worried about such matters, he could not be so bad as a guide. Or maybe he was just looking for an excuse to taste one of those chocolate cakes he had shown to like so much.

  
Cullen decided to follow the Inquisitor in the kitchen, hoping to get back to his daily tasks as soon as possible. He did not expect to find… her.

She was busy with her hands deeply sank in a soft and puffy mixture that she was kneading with gracious yet accurate movements. She stood in a mist of flour that slightly flew around her as a glow of purity; a pitch-black strain of hair was sneaking out of the rag on her head, and loosened on the alabaster skin of her cheek. She reminded him of the moonlight, although her nose was sprinkled with a note of cinnamon coloured freckles.

  
Cullen indulged his gaze on her beauty: soft, butter-like skin, a large breast that was hardly hold by her corset. Her waist was a sweet and delicious run before the eye could rest on the Maker-blessed shape of her generous hips.   
Cullen heard her laughter ringing and caught her genuine smile on her eyes and mouth.

  
“What ‘s your name, my lady?” Asked the Inquisitor.

Cullen woke up from that daydream as he heard Trevelyan’s voice.

  
“Anya”, she simply answered.  
“Anya, that was a true pleasure!”

The Inquisitor moved toward the door that leaded to the courtyard. He looked at Cullen and said:

“So! This way there are our prisons, right?”

He opened the door and found Master Dennet who greeted him.

“CRAP! This is going to be endless!”

Cullen heard him cursing while he walked away.  
The Commander took off his hands from the table on which he was leaning and rubbed his forehead, thinking about the journey to Crestwood that the Herold was supposed to take in the next few days.

  
Anya was bouncing her glance between the Commander and the open door. Cullen noticed it and stepped forward nodding hello.   
He was about to leave when Anya called him back.

“Commander.”

He turned and saw that blessing moving toward him. He suddenly panicked when he caught her getting closer and closer to his face. She looked at him with an amused smirk; finally, she drew out of her apron a small napkin. She soaked it   with the tip of her tongue, then she raised it and cleaned the spot of flour that was upon his forehead.  
“I think you wouldn’t like your men to see you like this, would you?”   
She was… Maker. It was a lifetime that Cullen couldn’t feel so comfortable with someone, although they barely met before. She acted so naturally, with effortless kindness and essential pragmatism.   
Without second thought, she pulled out from a pantry a fruit tarte and gave it to him.  
“There” she said, “your favourite”.  
Cullen raised one eyebrow and asked: “how do you know?”

She winked: “You might be the Commander out there, but here, _**I** am_ the one in charge!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Prompts are very much appreciated as long as kudos, comments, and suggestions. <3


End file.
